"That little snake!" Mrs. Wrenford hissed when Erisia disappeared from view, her voice vibrating with fury. "The audacity—threatening me in my own house!"
"She's bluffing," Leander said quickly, placing his hands in his pockets. However, his eyes kept darting toward the staircase, like he half-expected Erisia to reappear and eviscerate him with words again. "There's no way she has the guts to do that. She's just trying to scare us."
Sierra didn't say a word. She sat stiffly on the edge of the sofa, nails digging into her palms, trying not to betray how much Erisia's whisper had rattled her. She could still feel the heat of her breath, the smug little chuckle that had slithered under her skin like poison.
"No, she would," Mrs. Wrenford snapped.
"There is nothing that girl can't do. Ever since the pool accident, she has started showing us her true colors. I just knew it—I knew that girl was nothing but a vile snake."
"Then—" Leander made to speak, but he was cut off by his mother's sharp, rising voice.
"I told your father not to let her associate with us, much less live with us! But he didn't listen. And now look—look what is happening! He insisted, 'She's our biological daughter, she has to live under our roof.' He said if people found out, it would be a smear on our reputation." Her tone dripped with scorn. "But now? Now she's the one smearing us!"
She threw up her hands, pacing the rug like a caged animal.
"She almost killed Sierra! If we hadn't stopped the fire in time that day, Sierra would have been badly burned—maybe even dead! And still, he wouldn't let me send her off to where she belongs!"
Leander's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. Sierra's eyes flickered up at her stepmother, the faintest hint of a smile crossing her face before vanishing under a mask of wounded innocence.
Just then, one of the maids grabbed the handle of Erisia's luggage while another picked up the second suitcase. They had just turned toward the stairs when Mrs. Wrenford's sharp, cutting tone froze them mid-step.
"What the hell do you two think you're doing?!"
Both maids turned slowly to face her, their eyes wide at the fury etched across her face. One of them stammered out, "M-Miss Erisia said we should take her luggage back to her room, and we were just—"
Before she could finish, Mrs. Wrenford strode forward and struck her across the face with a sharp slap.
"Do you think I'm blind?!" she spat. "I know exactly what you were doing! I'm asking why you were doing it. Who gave you the courage to follow her orders when I'm standing right here? Answer me!"
The maid who had spoken cradled her stinging cheek but quickly dropped her hand, bowing her head in fear. Both of them began to babble apologies.
"W-we're so sorry, Ma'am! Please forgive us! We—we won't do it again! We promise!"
Mrs. Wrenford's voice rose, cutting through the air like a whip. "Listen well—all of you!" she barked, turning toward the other servants who had gathered at the noise. "That girl is no one in this house. Do you hear me? She has no authority here. You are not to obey her, take orders from her, or lift a single finger on her behalf—no matter what she says!"
Her glare swept the room, daring anyone to speak.
"Do you all understand?"
"Yes, Ma'am!" came the trembling chorus.
"Good," she said coldly. "Because if anyone dares to break this rule, they will be severely punished—or thrown out of this mansion without a second thought."
Her words hung heavy in the air, the silence that followed thick with fear, but they dared not say a thing.
Some of the servants in the mansion knew that Mrs. Wrenford was unfairly biased against her own biological daughter.
Why? Because they knew Ms. Sierra was not what she appeared to be. But they would never breathe a word of it—it wasn't their place to interfere.
Just as Mrs. Wrenford moved toward the couch to sit down, an older maid called out to her. She stopped and turned, her glare sharp enough to cut.
"What is it?"
The older maid pointed to the young maid standing beside her—the third one who had helped pack Erisia's luggage and place it at the entrance earlier.
"She says she saw a kitten in Ms. Erisia's arms, but she's afraid to tell you."
Mrs. Wrenford hadn't even fully lowered herself into the seat before she shot upright again, raw anger flooding her face.
"What did you say?!"
The older maid gave a stiff nod and nudged the younger one forward. The girl's eyes darted nervously to the floor, and she nodded quickly, stammering out, "Y-Yes, Ma'am… I did."
Sierra, still standing behind Leander, was momentarily taken aback when she heard the maid's words. She knew Erisia had somehow grown confident—and bold—enough to do certain things. But she never imagined Erisia would dare bring a kitten back into the mansion after what had happened to her last cat.
Besides, just like the fire incident, the mere mention of Erisia bringing a cat into the house was enough to make Mother explode in rage. All the other things Erisia had done—Mother could tolerate them, however begrudgingly—but this? This was something she would never forgive.
It would end one of two ways: either Erisia got punished, or the kitten was taken away from her. And given that Erisia loved those little animals more than she ever loved her own biological family, Sierra knew this would cut her deeply. She couldn't wait to see it happen.
Her lips curved into a small, dark smile, and her eyes gleamed with anticipation.
She scoffed inwardly.
Hah… Sierra, did you think anything would change? Sure, maybe you've changed a little. But nothing else will. Never has, never will.
True to her thoughts, Mrs. Wrenford stormed toward the staircase and began ascending with heavy, furious steps. Sierra cast a quick glance at Leander, whose face was twisted into a scowl. He glanced back at her once before following his mother up the stairs. Sierra trailed after them.
In seconds, they reached the second floor and strode down the hallway. Erisia's room sat at the far end on the right side.
Mrs. Wrenford banged on the door, shouting Erisia's name and ordering her to come out immediately.
Whether Erisia hadn't heard her "loud yell" or was deliberately ignoring her, no one could say—but as seconds ticked by, stretching dangerously close to a full minute with no reply, Mrs. Wrenford's fury climbed even higher. She drew back her leg, ready to kick the door in—
—when it suddenly swung open.
Mrs. Wrenford stumbled forward, nearly pitching into the room, but Leander caught her by the arm and steadied her.
Erisia leaned casually against the wall, one hand still gripping the doorknob, her gaze sweeping over the three of them with an expression both apathetic and condescending.
"You crazy gi—" Mrs. Wrenford began, but Erisia's eyes shifted to Leander.
"You should've let the old hag fall."
The insult made Leander's scowl deepen as he stepped forward. "She is my mother—and yours. You will never call her such names again. You will give her the respect she deserves, even if you were never taught manners. Do you understand me?"
Erisia rolled her eyes. "No, I don't fucking understand. I'll call the woman whatever I want, and I'll do whatever the fuck I want—because she deserves it. You all deserve the shit I'm going to put you through."
It was then Sierra spoke, her voice trembling just enough to sound innocent. "B-but Erisia, Leander is our elder brother. Please, don't speak to him that way."
Erisia's gaze snapped to her. "What the fuck did you just say? Our brother? It seems the three of you didn't hear what I fucking said in the living room. We are not family. I don't see any of you as my family. I'm only living here because it's my right—we share the same blood—and because I have nowhere else to go for now. Trust me, I'll be out of here the second I have another option."
"If I could choose, I would never live with this disgusting family." Erisia's voice was ice, each word precise and sharp enough to cut. "Unfortunately for me, life doesn't hand out choices—it hands out shit, and right now, you three are the steaming pile I have to step over."
Mrs. Wrenford's eyes blazed. "You—"
"Save it," Erisia cut her off, her tone dripping with boredom. She shifted her weight against the doorframe, the kitten in her arms purring softly as if mocking the tension in the hallway. "You've already yelled enough for one day. I'd say it's bad for your health, but frankly, I don't care if you drop dead in the middle of a sentence."
Leander's hands curled into fists, his jaw ticking. "You ungrateful—"
"Ungrateful?" Erisia arched her brow. "That's rich coming from people who've done nothing but treat me like garbage since the day I walked in here. If anything, I've been far too polite."
Sierra's lips trembled, and for a second she looked like she might cry—but the flicker of satisfaction in her eyes betrayed her. "Erisia, we're trying to be civil—"
"No, you're trying to bait me," Erisia said flatly, her gaze locking on Sierra's. "And you're terrible at it. Maybe next time you can rehearse in front of a mirror first."
The air between them thickened until it felt almost tangible. Erisia gave the kitten one last gentle stroke before straightening, her voice cold and final.
"Now, unless one of you plans to physically drag me out of here—which I don't recommend—you can turn around and leave. My door stays shut. You stay out. We'll all live longer."
Then, with a flick of her wrist, she slammed the door in their faces, the sharp crack echoing down the hallway.
Then it opened again. "Oh, I need my luggage, and I will be having dinner downstairs." She smiled before shutting the door in their faces again.
For a long moment, no one moved. Mrs. Wrenford's lips trembled with rage, Leander's knuckles whitened, and Sierra's nails dug crescent moons into her palms.